


The Slumber Party

by Whystickaround



Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-30 03:25:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18307205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whystickaround/pseuds/Whystickaround
Summary: “Well I suppose it’s too much to ask for ‘you show me yours I’ll show you mine?’”





	The Slumber Party

**Author's Note:**

> God I’ve had this written for weeks and was just super caught on the smut, so I just cut it out. Sorry Sienna. And, as per usual, I didn’t read it again after writing it but you know, c’est la vie.

“Do you want to have sex with me or what?” Grace deadpans, too exhausted to play this game of Frankie’s.

Frankie erupts with laughter. “No! But I love how uncomfortable it makes you!”

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable! I’ve kissed a girl.” Grace doesn’t know why she says it, why she’s pushing it right now of all the times Frankie has made these jokes. Maybe it’s because she’s sleeping on the floor of a home that is no longer theirs, maybe it’s the uncertainty of what it means for them if they don’t have this place to ground them, maybe she’s just finally fed up with with feigning ignorance.

“You have not!” Frankie squeals with delight, and for a second Grace wishes she could take it back. She so badly wants to close her eyes and just go to sleep after this day of hell, but she knows it’s too late now.

“A lot of things happened before you came on the scene.” She sees something spark in Frankie’s eyes. If she didn’t know her better it might come across as intrigue but Grace knowsexactly what jealousy looks like on Frankie. She knew no matter how many Jacobs or Nicks came into their lives now, Frankie _hated_ the thought of Grace ever having a life that didn’t involve her, and she let herself take pleasure in that.

“Tell me everything!” Frankie is practically squirming off her air mattress.

“It was long time ago... I can’t see why it would matter to you anyway.”

“You witch! You know I’m more curious than George!”

“Who?”

“Oh good gracious woman, out with it!”

Grace is suddenly conscious of how dark it is in the room, she tries not to focus on the soft glow from the streetlights outside shining in Frankie’s eager eyes.

“Okay fine, but I’m laying down.” Grace says and pulls the blankets down on her air mattress. Frankie follows suit and they both relax into the uncomfortable beds.

“I was in high school. It was an all girls boarding school.” She waits for Frankie to make a joke but then she realizes Frankie is waiting for her to speak. She’s never heard the other woman so silent

“There was a girl, her name was Elizabeth. She was a year older than me and I admired her stature and confidence. I.. I wanted to be just like her. She sort of took me under her wing and I spent two years copying her every move. It was almost like an obsession. But she liked it too, I think. She never told me to stop or to leave her alone.”

“She was never really my friend or anything. I never felt truly comfortable around her, always nervous or self conscious. But one night shortly before she graduated we snuck out of our dorms and we smoked a cigarette out against this big oak tree that she loved. And I remember she took my hand and looked at me and we kissed. Actually now that I think of it... I kissed her. I didn’t think about it at the time but I had wanted to kiss her and she was leaving soon so I did.”

“Was it just that once?” Frankie’s voice pulls Grace back from her realization.

“With her, yes.” She breathes and she can feel the rumble of these secrets begging to be freed. This little part of her that she harboured for fifty years, kept inside but not forgotten.

“The next year-“ Grace starts but this time she hears the shaking of her voice. “The next year I had a new roommate. And she was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. We became very close friends. And when she told me she was a _lesbian_ I was horrified. I had never met a lesbian before and despite Elizabeth I knew I wasn’t _that_ _way_. So I tried to pull away from her but she got upset. We got into an argument and she claimed I was like her, but I wasn’t.” Grace shakes her head. “I screamed at her that I could never accept her and she kissed me.”

“And I suppose I was overwhelmed. And maybe confused, to go from fighting to kissing, but I kissed her back. And she touched me. She touched my hips and my breasts and I touched hers too. And it felt... exciting. I remember I wanted her to touch me _other_ _places_ , but as soon as the thought entered my head I pushed her away.” Frankie is still so quiet she isn’t even sure if she’s asleep.

“I can picture the look of pain in her face when I did that. I’ve tried so hard to forget it. I apologized to her, I told her I could never be like her and shortly afterwards she transferred dorms. I didn’t date anyone for a long time, had a few short flings with men in college and then of course, I met Robert. I never told him. I never told anyone. Until you.” She whispers, and now she really is scared Frankie is asleep. She doesn’t want to have to repeat everything in the daylight tomorrow when Frankie remembers what they were talking about when she dozed off.

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I don’t take it lightly.” Frankie’s voice is soft and Grace had almost missed the sound of it while she’d been talking.

“Yeah, well, I knew you wouldn’t let me go to sleep if I didn’t.” She immediately deflects.

“No but it means a lot to me all the same.” She replies and Grace can’t think of anything to say to that. She closes her eyes and hopes Frankie will drop it now. Prays the other woman has the courtesy to leave this conversation here, tonight, on these air mattresses.

Grace is welcoming sleep when she hears Frankie shift on her bed and she keeps her eyes shut; knows that the other woman is looking at her.

“Grace?” Frankie whispers.

“Yes?” She whispers back.

“Can I come and lay beside you? You can say no.”

Grace’s breath hitches, she pauses.

“Yes.” She can feel her heartbeat in her chest and and she immediately feels foolish, there’s no reason to feel nervous about the request, Frankie has wrangled her way into her bed more times than she can count.

Frankie doesn’t wait for her to change her mind, she crawls up and Grace lifts the corner of the blanket to let her in. She moves over slightly but doesn’t look away from the ceiling. The air mattress is small and she can feel Frankie’s body against hers at at least four points of contact but she doesn’t try to shift away, almost welcomes the warmth next to her.

“So what do you think that means? That story? What does it mean to you?” Frankie whispers and her breath against Grace’s shoulder makes her want to jump out of her own skin.

“Does everything have to mean something?” She meant to ask it dismissively, condescending even, but it comes out small and weak and vulnerable, as if she was scared of what it could mean.

“No.” Frankie thinks for a minute, “No, not everything has to mean something... but I’ve found in my life that most of the things we tell ourselves don’t, do if you let yourself look at them hard enough.”

She doesn’t know if it’s the sleep creeping it’s way beneath her eyes, or the wine, but it’s one of the most profound things she’s ever heard Frankie say. And it almost frustrates her how typical Frankie it is; to be so careless sometimes yet so thoughtful all of the time.

“I’ve spent a lifetime ignoring it.” The words are so light yet so heavy at the same time.

“Can I put my arm on you?” Frankie whispers and she nods in the dark, knows Frankie can feel it. She assumes she’s going to place her hand on her arm and when she feels the other woman’s hand snake across her stomach her heart beats faster.

“Oh.”

“Is this okay?”

Grace hesitates; “Yes.”

“I’ve kissed women before too, you know.” Frankie admits as her hand curves around Grace’s hipbone.

“You have?”

“Mhm.” Her breath hot against her shoulder again. “Never more than that. But I’ve been... curious I suppose.”

Grace can feel the rise and fall of both of their chests and she knows she’s dipping her toes into a very dangerous pond as she asks, “And what do you think that means?”

“I love men. It comes naturally to me... but... I think I could love women too. It’s never felt unnatural.”

“Oh.”

Frankie’s fingers move back and forth across her stomach and the muscles tense involuntarily.

“I like touching you.” She whispers and Grace squeezes her eyes shut even tighter, and then opens them right before it begins to hurt. In a moment of bravery she turns her head and tries to find Frankie’s eyes in the dark.

“I like you touching me.” She says and it feels like the rawest of confessions. For years she’s been trying to convince everyone she _doesn’t_ , but here, cloaked in darkness it feels good to admit the truth. Scary, but _good_.

“Do you?” Frankie’s voice is vulnerable and that alone makes Grace feel more at ease. This is new to both of them and it is a relief to not feel alone in that.

“I do.”

“What if- what if I touched you more?”

The words are too much and Grace has to close her eyes again. When she doesn’t respond Frankie inches her hand up against Grace’s ribs and she shudders. She remembers her left hand wedged between them and slowly rubs circles against Frankie’s thigh.

“Please.” She says finally, when the words untangle themselves from her throat.

“Please what?”

“Please... touch me... more.” It’s strangled and needy but she doesn’t have time to be embarrassed before her brain is bombarded with the moan that escapes Frankie’s lips. The hand on her ribs is now gently stroking the underneath of her breast through her white button up pyjama shirt and just as she goes to welcome it underneath, she stops.

“I love you.” She blurts and Frankie stops moving.“I just want to say that first, before whatever is happening... happens. I love you. No matter what.”

For a long terrifying second Grace thinks she might have gone deaf, the world around her drowned out entirely by her own heartbeat ringing in her ears. But just as she goes to prop herself up onto her elbows, to move her body away and apologize for being so stupid and emotional, Frankie cups the side of her face and moves up so they’re eye to eye. She brushes her thumb lightly along Grace’s bottom lip and the sensation makes her briefly forget what she just said, she leans into it and as if on cue Frankie presses their lips together, kissing her so tenderly she feels some of the broken pieces of herself fit back together.

“I love _you_. I love you so much that this doesn’t even feel scary. I mean, I’m nervous- hell, my insides feel like someone threw a bucket of bouncy balls down the stairs, and this was not at all how I thought this sleepover would go, but I’m not scared of this.”

Grace smiles at her; goes to speak but Frankie starts again, “But... I don’t think that this doesn’t mean anything. I actually kind of think this means everything and I’m kind of hoping we’re on the same page with that.”

Grace pulls her body closer despite hardly being possible and wraps her arms around her. She thinks for a moment before she speaks. “I want this to mean something about us... but I’m not sure if I’m ready for this to mean something about me. Does that make sense?” She pulls back slightly.

“Not really. But that’s okay, it doesn’t have to make you a lesbian if you want to kiss me again. _Do_ you want to kiss me again?” Her voice is teasing but it makes Grace’s heart beat fast again.

“Do _you_ want to kiss me again?”

“Do you _want_ me to kiss you again?”

“Oh my god I can’t take it! Kiss me again goddamnit! Or you know what-“ Grace leans down again and kisses Frankie’s lips. Frankie melts back into the pillow and given the small mattress Grace curls her leg around Frankie’s and half crawls on top of her. Frankie moans against her lips and it sends her body into overdrive. She pushes her right leg between the other woman’s and runs her hands through Frankie’s hair. 

Frankie’s hands are everywhere, but it’s not hurried. She touches Grace’s arms and her back and then her behind with respect and thoughtfulness. She is not trying to devour her, despite the energy in the room.

When she pulls away for air she gasps, “Oh Grace...” But Grace quickly moves to her neck and whatever she was going to say gets caught in a strangled moan. Grace’s lips curl at the effect she has on the other woman. Then she remembers what got them into this situation in the first place.

“You make all those little jokes...” she coos against Frankie’s collarbones, “All those compliments. The come-ons. The questions. Is this what you wanted to happen?” Her words surprise her, she can’t think of a time that she ever talked like this in bed, but they also give her confidence and she trails her hand from Frankie’s hair down to her breast. Frankie sucks in a breath and before she can even conjure up an answer Grace kisses her passionately on the lips.

“I never dreamt it would.” She squeaks and it makes Grace stop.

“What does that mean?” She asks softly.

“I don’t know... I guess I wanted it, but like how I want to win the lottery. You can dream about it but you can’t let yourself really believe it could happen. Or it’ll be all you think about.”

Grace forgets, and she forgets, and she forgets, and she forgets how vulnerable Frankie is. She doesn’t know if it’s her loud voice, or her even louder appearance, or the confidence she exhibits when she asks things like _can’t_ , _or_ _won’t_ _Grace_? But Frankie is vulnerable. She’s anxious and she’s insecure sometimes and it breaks Grace’s heart to hear it out in the open.

“Frankie... I wasn’t ignoring the jokes and the comments to hurt you. I just truly thought they were jokes. I didn’t know you wanted this.”

“No, I know. I know. There’s a part of me that just likes getting you riled up, but everything I say has truth in it. I _could_ hold you until you fall asleep. I _could_ wake you up in the mornings.”

“Will you hold me now?” Grace asks and she shifts onto her right side, pulling Frankie’s hand over her waist. The warmth from the other woman keeping her grounded despite the events of the past hour spinning around her.

“Grace?” Frankie whispers and suddenly Grace knows why she’s always loved her name coming from Frankie’s mouth.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever thought about me? Sexually?”

The heat from a few minutes ago flashes between her legs, reminds her of what she was going to do before Frankie spoke.

“Yes.” It’s a strange thing, to be so comfortable and yet so nervous saying it.

“More than once?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

She doesn’t want to say, and the question is vague enough she doesn’t have to. “A few times.”

“When did it start?” There it is.

“When you were in Santa Fe. I was so angry. And lonely. And jealous. One night when I felt all three at once I started touching myself. And all I could think about was you. And missing you. And it didn’t even really startle me to come to the thought of you. It just made me sad.”

Frankie kisses the back of her neck and it makes her hips grind backwards slightly. Frankie falls into her rhythm and for a second Grace doesn’t think she’s ever felt something so right in her entire life. She doesn’t need Frankie to apologize again, she’s been apologizing in little ways for months, but it feels good to finally let herself talk about it.

“And then you came home... and it felt like a violation to think about you like that when you were so nearby. So I would try not to... but sometimes I couldn’t help it.” She needs to stop talking, she knows that. But each word makes Frankie press harder against her, and she doesn’t want her to ever stop.

“I told myself it didn’t mean anything.” She pants, moving her arm to give Frankie better access to her breasts.

“Did thinking of me make you feel good?” Frankie’s voice is heavy behind her ear.

“Yes.” She moans.

“Does this make you feel good?” She asks as she moves her hand antagonizingly slowly down her stomach to lightly cup her between the legs.

“Oh god, yes.”

“I’ve thought about you too.” Frankie husks as she starts to press firmer and Grace worries she might come just from the sound of the other woman’s voice. The thought of coming with Frankie’s body wrapped around her like a safety net fills her up more than any man or drink or vibrator induced orgasm ever has.

“When?” She breathes.

“After Santa Fe. In Santa Fe. Before Santa Fe.” Frankie confesses and Grace suddenly needs to look her in the eyes more than she’s ever need anything. She rolls slightly and Frankie moves with her, giving her space to settle onto her back, her hand moving in soft circles now that she has more access.

Grace looks her in the eye and desperately pulls her closer, pressing their lips together hungrily. Grace is not new to being wanted, men have chased her her whole life, but this kind of want, this _need_ she hears in Frankie’s voice is new to her. It’s not just about her body or the thought of her, Frankie has seen every ugly part of Grace and still wants to be near her. Still wants to be _with_ her, in every sense of the word.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Frankie asks, her voice laced with concern.

“For so much.” And she means it. She’s so genuinely sorry for any pain she’s caused Frankie; this woman who has been the only steady presence throughout everything she’s gone through in the last four years. This woman who has taught her how to be happy and silly and helped her grow as a mother and grandmother.

“I’m sorry too, honey. For so much. But we aren’t those people anymore okay? We can start new now.” Frankie’s hand is still between Grace’s legs. “Do you want to go to sleep?”

“No. Please. Keep- keep doing what you’re doing. Please.” Grace begs, unable to stop herself from asking for what she wants.

Frankie doesn’t need to be asked twice.

* * *

 

Hours ( _or_ _days-_ Grace isn’t sure) later, she collapses back against the air mattress, the sheet hot beneath her sticky skin. Frankie lays next to her, panting, her hand still gripping the sheet, but lighter now. “You know... I said this doesn’t have to say anything about you... but after that, I’m starting to think you might be a lesbian...”

Grace laughs, an honest laugh, before taking Frankie’s hand into her own between their naked bodies and grinning. “You know what? I think you might be right.”

 


End file.
